Hope
by Matenit
Summary: The same overwhelming sense of failure, just in a different setting. Her brain toiled with what to say to the hopeful faces of the Champions, always so patient with her e spark she was supposed to find within herself, what mattered to her most, what she fought for; Zelda couldn't find and utilize whatever was supposed to open the floodgate to this... cursed power.


The same overwhelming sense of failure, just in a different setting. Zelda's ceremonial, white dress clung to herself heavily, and the water soaked into the fabric dragged her down and made every step feel agonizingly slow. Her brain toiled with what to say to the same hopeful faces of the Champions, always so patient with her uselessness. They all made it seem so easy, and they tried to help, but their advice fell on deaf and incompetent ears. The spark she was supposed to find within herself, what mattered to her most, what she fought for; Zelda couldn't find and utilize whatever was supposed to open the floodgate to this... cursed power. Deep in this turmoil, she started at Urbosa's blunt question.

"Anything happen up there, princess?" Not even looking her in the eyes, she shook her head no, loose hair falling forward as she tried to avoid their gaze. But that was not how a royal princess was supposed to act in front of subjects. Even when announcing defeat, royals had to be calm and collected, and most of all a symbol of calm to the populace. Zelda cleared her throat.

"I'm... afraid not. I really did think that this would be the one, too. I'm sorry, everyone." Her voice dropped to nearly a whisper as she reached the end of the sentence, the shame engulfing the naturally regal confidence. She received several sympathetic looks, and interceded many more glances to each other.

"Don't worry about it! You'll get the hang of it soon enough, princess." Daruk, kind as ever, tried to lift some of the guilt of her. "It's only a matter of time; you've been training for forever."

Yes, she had. Since she could barely fend for herself she was immersed in prayers and the god-awful training to obtain the fated power. No matter how much she hated it, she was forced to the same daily routine, and eventually she felt the crushing weight of the responsibility she had been born under. Fervently after, Zelda trained and studied and tried to become the perfect princess her father expected of her. But somehow, she always fell short. Even as being a daughter, it was never enough for the king; there was always something she was doing wrong. Focusing too much on studies instead of her prayers, not devoting herself wholly to the goddess, things she felt she had already given every ounce of her being towards, but not to him. And now, when it mattered the most, when the threat was as impending as gale winds and ink-black skies before a storm, she was still insufficient.

As humiliating as it was, all these terrible realizations made stinging tears well up in her eyes, and she was afraid to speak as a lump swelled in her throat. Thankfully, the Champions broke off into their separate conversations, as if conscious of her breakdown and not wanting to embarrass her further. Gratefully, she turned away from the mass, and start to walk in any direction that would take her further away from them.

It wasn't like they had done anything wrong; in fact they were doing better than her. They had their strong bonds with the Divine Beasts, were the best of their people, made them all proud and only served the kingdom with grace and loyalty. Zelda felt another flush of heat from shame. Her steps picked up in speed, and she began to run through the forest that surrounded the spring, not caring about the branches that reached out and grabbed and pulled at her dress, unsuited for exactly this. Tears flowed freely now, and her breath came in gasps as her lungs tried to keep up with the rest of her body.

She didn't care what the others thought at her sudden outburst, but at the same time them thinking she was running away from her duty summoned another wave of hot tears. But that was what she was doing, wasn't it? Normally she would head immediately back to the castle and try desperately to correct what could have went wrong, what the prayer had lacked, tried to become the perfect maiden for the goddess. No matter what she did, what people thought of her, and what she hopelessly wanted to be, nothing worked. It felt like the whole world was both against and expectant of her, and the pressure was driving her to bits.

Finally, Zelda collapsed, sobbing and hiccuping and trying to catch her breath. Blinded with tears, she was only able to hypothesize where she was from the bark rough against her knees and the tough grass tickling her hands as they hung uselessly as she wept. The orange, splintered light from the sunset still pierced her eyes, so she hadn't become hopelessly lost in the night. Only during the afternoon.

Zelda didn't know how long she had cried for, but when a delicate hand gently touched her heaving shoulders, she started and tried to save the little dignity she still had. At least long enough for one of their group to catch up with her; these springs are heavily guarded, but open to anyone willing to pray. Expecting the same smothering bodyguard, when she had brushed the hand off rudely and turned with her mouth open, she was shocked to see the nervously smiling Mipha, kneeling by her.

"Oh! Mipha..." If she had known it was her, she would have been more polite. The Zora had been nothing but a gentle and kind girl, offering nothing but her good wishes and never bringing harm to anyone undeserving. "I apologize. I..."

"Do not worry, princess. I understand." Her soft, lilting voice was as tender as the sympathetic look in her eyes. Again, she laid a hand upon Zelda, but this time on top on her hand. "When I... was appointed as the Zora Champion, I felt like I would do nothing but disappoint them." Her head dropped a bit as if she remembered the feeling of back then, but she recovered and continued. "I was so nervous. I was just the daughter of the king, a princess, and I could barely get that right. Every mistake I made was like I had brought down the whole kingdom, and I made many." Zelda's eyes began to mist again, as the similarities of their stories just reminded her of her own failures. A roundabout way to remind her of her futile ways.

"But," Mipha's hand suddenly grasped her own, and squeezed it reassuringly as she continued confidently. "I learned. And I improved, and I could contribute. I understand how you feel. I felt like I was useless, and like they had picked the wrong person. But it only got better. And," she added. "I didn't have a group of friends to help me every time I messed up. If you ever need anything, Zelda," Not princess this time. Taking a deep breath as if to steady herself, Mipha's gaze and grip intensified, strong as steel, but warm as wool. "I am here."

Zelda felt the tears on her cheeks before she realized she had been crying. Mipha also noticed, and quickly dropped her hand.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry if I made you upset, princess, I only-" She stopped surprisingly as Zelda's hands swooped her own into another crushing grip.

"No, no, its quite alright." She smiled through the tears, because she was only crying from gratefulness. Mipha was exactly right. She did have friends who could help her, and she didn't have to run and hide alone anymore. For once, she felt hopeful. "Thank you, Mipha."

Mipha's caring smile returned her own. "Anything, Zelda."


End file.
